


If You Loved Me, Why'd You Leave Me?

by sleepyfaceandsnark (teamwinchesterbros)



Category: Shameless (US), gallavich - Fandom
Genre: Angst, M/M, Sad, Sad sad sad, funeral fic, helpful!Lip, mourning!Mickey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-26
Updated: 2014-03-26
Packaged: 2018-01-17 03:18:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1371925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teamwinchesterbros/pseuds/sleepyfaceandsnark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt:Mickey at Ian's funeral</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Loved Me, Why'd You Leave Me?

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: DO NOT listen to Angel by Sarah Mclachlan.

Mickey has spent the days following Ian’s death drinking himself into oblivion. He drinks so much he forgets his own name sometimes, because with forgetting his name he forgot all the pain that came with it. If he isn’t drunk then he’s passed out on the couch the remains of his last beer dripping on to the floor. No matter how much he drinks when he closes his eyes he sees him. Red hair blowing in the Chicago wind, a radiant smile that was bright enough to guide the lost ones from the darkness. Helped guide Mickey from some darkness himself. Ian Gallagher. The man Mickey loved and the man he lost. 

Mickey somehow finds the strength to get up on this particular morning. He tries his best to be in denial about what today was. He looks at his 5th bottle of Jack he bought this week. It’s already half empty. He picks it up and moves it around in his hands, staring at the label. He puts the bottle back down, not taking a swig. _I’ll be sober today,_  he thinks. _For him._

He goes to his closet opening it slowly. He turns his head away sharply when he notices Ian’s jackets and shirts hanging up, intertwining themselves with Mickey’s clothes. Mickey takes a sharp breath in reaching in the closet hoping to find what he was looking for right away so he can close the door.

"Goddammit where the fuck is it!?" he yells to himself, growing frustrated and turning to look at the clothes again quickly trying to push the others out of the way. Some of Ian’s jackets and plaid shirts fall to the floor as Mickey finally comes across his black suit. 

>    ”Jesus, Mick. That seems a little big for you huh?” Ian says to a slightly younger Mickey wearing the same suit
> 
> "Fuck you, man I couldn’t find anything my size. Does it really look that bad?"
> 
> "No.. no you look great. Really great actually"
> 
> "Oh yeah?"
> 
> Ian smiles and licks his lips “ohhhh yeah” 
> 
> "Come on, Gallagher. We can’t be late" 
> 
> "Mmmm we can be a little late. No one’s going to notice" Ian laughs as he slowly undoes Mickey’s tie.

Mickey smiles at the memory, forgetting for a moment that Ian was no longer there. Then the reality hits him, crushing him once again. 

"You fucking asshole" a tear slides out of Mickey’s eye. He looks down at Ian’s jackets and shirts covering the floor near the closet, disabling Mickey from closing it. He bends down to pick them up and can’t stop himself from pulling the shirts close to his face and taking in Ian’s scent. He buries his head in the clothes in his hand, pulling the fabric close to his face as he loses control of his tears. He cries for losing the man he loved, losing the life they could’ve had, should’ve had. The man who taught him so much and he wanted to learn more from. He deserved to, he thought. He finally believed he deserved Ian Gallagher and then he was gone.  

Mickey eventually hears a knock at his front door and tries his best to compose himself but who’s he kidding? He’s still holding one of the shirts when he answers the door to Lip, who Mickey lets in by simply moving out of the way. 

"You uhh… gonna wear that?" Lip asks pointing to the shirt in Mickey’s hand.

Mickey shakes his head. “naw it’s uhh…it’s..umm” he tries to say it’s Ian’s but he can’t seem to get the name out but Lip understands. 

"You don’t have to get dressed up, man. He wouldn’t care you know."

Mickey nods slowly and lets out a soft “yeah” as he heads back to his bedroom to change. 

Lip sighs and takes the amount of time Mickey uses to change to straighten up his place a little. He throws away empty bottles and tries to put things in more organized piles. After awhile Mickey emerges from the bedroom and nods in the direction of the door. He follows Lip out and closes the door behind him. They walk towards Lip’s car and Mickey gets in the passenger seat. He sits there staring out the window at his house. Lip gets in

"Mandy couldn’t make it?" Lips asks

Mickey looks at him quickly and then looks away “Nah. She… doesn’t really like funerals.”

"Oh..right. Prefers to remember people how they were or some shit?"

Mickey nods. 

"She doing okay?"

"Yeah. Married. Lives in New York." 

"Good. That’s good"

"Sure." Mickey wipes his nose and stares at this hands. He traces his knuckles with his fingers, circling around the tatted words, plays with the ring on his ring finger. "Fuck" he lets out as he grabs his hair at the back of his head, hiding his face in his arms and starts crying loudly. "Fuckk" 

Lips is silent the rest of the car ride not knowing how to comfort the man next to him who misses his brother more than Lip thought possible. Ian’s death had been hard for Lip but he was handling it. Mickey… was not. Lip fears he never would. 

They eventually approach the minuscule funeral home, it was all they could afford, and Mickey’s legs seem to have temporarily forgotten how to work because he’s left just sitting there staring. Lip patiently waits, sitting by him in the driver’s seat. He puts his hand on Mickey’s shoulder, causing Mickey to jump slightly. He looks at Lip, who smiles sadly. 

Mickey nods his head. “yeah…okay” and he slowly gets out. 

The ceremony is as nice as it should be but Mickey can’t pay attention to anything that is being said. He stands in the back as everyone says nice things about the man he loved. Someone spoke for Mickey. Some shit he wrote Ian one night when he was drunk or high or something and Ian loved it so much he held on to it till… till.

"And this is for Mickey. From Ian." _No, no. God please._

Noticing Mickey’s discomfort thankfully the speaker stops and lets whoever wants to read it view it on their own. Mickey makes his way toward the remaining Gallagher clan as the viewing of the body starts. A few people pass him and tell him how much Ian loved him to which Mickey attempts a polite smile back. The guests who don’t know Ian that well but wanted to pay their respects disperse and leaving only family and some friends Ian had made left.

He watches as everyone looks into the casket and says some sort of goodbye or a simple bow of their head. He watches as Lip says goodbye to his brother and best friend and joins his siblings, hugging them close. Then he looks at Mickey and whispers something to them and then they soon disappear too, leaving Mickey alone with Ian for one last time. Mickey watches them go a tear already forming in his eyes. He apprehensively approaches the coffin. 

He leans over a bit to look in and quickly regrets it. He covers his eyes with his hands and takes in a sharp breath. “God dammit, Ian”.

He shakes his head, breathes in again, and walks closer to the casket. “This isn’t fair. It just looks like you’re sleeping”.

Mickey looks at Ian laying in the casket. His hair still as brightly red as it was the last time Mickey saw him. Mickey turns his head to look at Ian better. He lifts his hand up and palms Ian’s hair.

 ”You fucking dick. You weren’t supposed to leave me.” Mickey says pushing Ian’s hair back. He shakes his head and looks at Ian sadly. ”You weren’t supposed to go first you fucking asshole.” his voice rises as tears spew out of his once beautiful eyes now constantly bloodshot and surrounded by dark circles.

His hands find his way to Ian’s nicely placed, intertwined with each other, near his stomach. Mickey slowly traces the hands that once held him, the hands that would grab the back of his head as they kissed tenderly or fucked fiercely. Hands that playfully grabbed the beer bottle or cigarette out of Mickey’s hand to grab a swig or puff from. 

"Shit, man. I even drank and smoked more than you and still you die sooner. Fucking Cancer shit. No one knows what they’re talking about. I should be dead. Not you!" Mickey’s yelling now. "I’m a piece of shit that this world is left with and they take you. Why do they always take the good ones, huh?"

Mickey starts sarcastically laughing. “I know. I know what’ you’d say. ‘That’s just life, Mick. It’s not supposed to be fair’. Yeah well fuck you and your dumb insightful shit.”

Mickey turns away from the casket and sits down near it. He sighs “You know, people keep telling me how much you loved me and all that crap. Well… if you loved me…” Mickey chokes out, “then wh—…why did you leave me?” Mickey starts sobbing now, the palms of his hands covering is eyes, his shoulders shaking violently as he tries to get air in his lungs and maybe calm himself down a bit but he can’t. He doesn’t know how.

Eventually after what could’ve been hours he gets up. He looks at Ian one last time, squeezes his arm, trying to take in all of Ian he can. “Thank you.” Mickey says softly. “Thank you for loving me Ian Gallagher.” He turns away from the love of his life lying alone and walks out the doors. 

He sees Lip outside the doors forgetting Lip was his ride. Mickey apologizes but Lip quickly brushes it off. “No don’t worry about it”.

They get into the car and Lip takes Mickey back to his place one last time. He parks outside and sits there for a little bit.

"Hey. You uhh… you gonna be okay?" Lip asks Mickey genuinely.

Mickey looks at him and gives him a half smile that Ian once loved. Mickey then sighs and looks down, shaking his head.  ”No. Not without him”.

Lip wants to say something else but Mickey’s already out the door closing it behind him. Besides Lip doesn’t know what he’d say anyway to make it better. Mickey gives a polite wave and Lip drives away not knowing it’d be the last time he’d see the youngest Milkovich boy. 

**Author's Note:**

> It's to be assumed that Mickey didn't live long after. Either by conscious choice or by drinking too much/other health reasons.


End file.
